


Critique

by vehlr



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Friendfiction, Poor Cassandra, terribly written smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 11:40:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6004603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vehlr/pseuds/vehlr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Varric should have known better than to mention to Isabela the existence of smut Cassandra wrote for his eyes only.  Seriously.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Critique

**Author's Note:**

> A Valentine's gift for all the wonderful Cassandra/Varric shippers. Y'all are great people <3

“So,” begins Isabela, dropping herself into the chair opposite Hawke with a sly smile, “who wants a story?”

“Hi, Bela, I’m fine, how are you?” mocks Hawke, but she smiles at the sight of the woman regardless. “I suppose you want a drink?”

The pirate pulls a face. “Do you think me so unkind? I’ve already ordered us some. They’re bringing it over.”

“You’re the best.”

“I know. It’s a gift, truly. Now, do you want to know what this is?” She waves a sheaf of papers aloft.

“Deeds to your new ship?”

“I wish. They’re still dragging their heels over the price. No, this is a story by one very good friend of ours.”

Hawke rolls her eyes. “Bela, I don’t _want_ more friendfiction -”

“You will do when you realise the Seeker wrote it.”

Hawke practically lunges at her. “Maker’s giddy aunt, _give it to me!_ ”

Isabela cackles, keeping it out of her reach. “Settle down, settle down, all in good time! I haven’t even read it myself, I was saving it.”

“For me? You shouldn’t have.” Hawke sobers slightly. “Wait, how did you get hold of this?”

“She wrote it for Varric. He let it slip a few days ago, like a proud mother. It’s terribly sweet.”

“Bela, please tell me he knows you have this.”

“He should know. He mentioned it to me, he had to have known I would go after it -”

Hawke groans. “ _Belaaaaa_.”

She shoots Hawke a look. “I’m right,” she points out.

“That’s hardly the -”

“Anyway. I’ll put it back as soon as I’ve sated my curiosity.” Swinging her legs over the arm of the chair, she props the papers against her thighs and flicks through. “Besides, you’re just as interested as I am.”

“That’s not the point. This is private. What if she wrote -”

“She wrote smut.”

Hawke stills. “Read it to me.”

Isabela laughs, before scanning for an appropriate beginning. “Okay. So she’s _clearly_ taken a leaf out of Varric’s playbook. Everyone mentioned is a thinly-veiled version of people she knows.”

“Naturally, the two lovers are Varric and her, then.”

“Well, she’s hardly going to write about Aveline and Donnic, is she? Meet Tarrick -”

Hawke groans.

“- and Allegra, who appear to have bypassed any semblance of plot to find themselves alone in an undescribed room.”

“At least she’s to the point.”

Isabela chuckles, before clearing her throat. “His rippling chest hair was on display, and she could feel her wonton lust -”

Hawke scrunches her face. “You mean wanton.”

“It says wonton.”

“Isn’t that a sort of dumpling?”

Isabela laughs, before continuing. “Her _wonton_ lust overtaking her. Her breasts heaved with each tentative breath, hoping beyond hope that this paragon of manliness -”

Hawke chokes, and the reading is interrupted for a few minutes as she struggles to breathe normally again. “Maker’s breath, Bela, _paragon of manliness?_ ”

“Word for word.” Isabela leans back, a lazy smile on her lips. “It’s quite sweet, really. She’s madly besotted.”

Hawke swirls her drink, looking pensive. “She loves him. She’s said it, you know. Actual words and everything. He wouldn’t shut up about it.”

“Bless. Did he say it back?”

“Probably not. Little shit.”

“But he does, doesn’t he? It’s obvious.”

“Yeah, well, you know Varric. Can’t be honest about his feelings now, can he?”

The pirate sighs. “You landwalkers,” she says under her breath.

Hawke nudges her with her leg. “Shut up.”

“Where was I? Oh yes, paragon of -”

“Best skip ahead, I can’t risk choking again.”

“Quite.” She clears her throat dramatically before starting on the next page. “Tarrick smiled, and it was as if all the candles in the room suddenly burned with a ferocity - _good_ word - hither unknown to them. ‘Allegra,’ he rumbled in his deep, rich voice. Her nethers quaked.”

“I have… _so_ many questions.” Hawke shuffles in her seat. “But can I point out that he’s not even naked? He _smiled_ , Bela.”

“Yes, yes, she’s desperately in love with him. It’s sickening. I quake with disgust.”

“She really is.” Hawke smiles, resting her head on one hand. “I’m so glad he found her.”

“Don’t you start, this is supposed to be funny.” She skips another page. “Ugh, the dialogue is so Nevarran. Ah, here we are, he’s got her top off.”

“Always your favourite part.”

“He pawed at her dusky orbs - ugh, I hope this isn’t an accurate representation of his skills, that’s going to deflate many a good fantasy.”

Hawke snorts into her drink. “Tart.”

“And yet you adore me.” She continues reading. “Her pliant flesh ached at his touch, sending waves of heat through her -”

“Uh oh.”

“I _know_ , it’s awful. But wait, there’s more -”

“Not the uh oh I was referring to, Bela.”

“His hands quickly slid down her supple skin, fingers eager to tease at her most intimate areas. She let out a soft gasp as his thumb slid against her glistening folds - I mean, come on. Who calls them that?”

“My _girlfriend_ ,” says an angry voice behind her.

She drops her head back to look up at Varric, smile broad. “Hello, darling.”

“Don’t you ‘darling’ me,” he snaps. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“It’s not _my_ fault you left it lying around -”

“It was in a locked drawer!”

“- where any self-respecting pirate could find it.” She throws a wink at Hawke. “Truly, this is the booty I have been seeking my entire life.”

Varric snatches the papers from her hand. “Fuck off, Isabela.”

“Oh, you wound me! My actual name! You _must_ be upset.”

Hawke sits up slightly. “Varric, she didn’t mean -”

“Don’t.” He glares at her. “Don’t. I’m fucking pissed off, I don’t want explanations. I want both of you to swear to me that you will _never_ tell Cassandra that you read this.”

“Of course -”

“Can’t do that,” drawls Isabela. “If she asks, I’m not going to lie to her.”

“Bela, come on. It was a bit of fun, but you’ll hurt her feelings if she finds out -”

“Finds out what?” asks a voice behind Hawke.

Varric pales. Hawke swallows. Isabela smirks.

“Why, Cassandra! You look lovely as ever. Sure I can’t tempt you away from this hunk of dwarfly perfection?”

The Seeker folds her arms. “Isabela. Finds out what?”

“That I read your little romantic friendfiction for Varric.”

Hawke closes her eyes. “ _Bela…_ ”

“Oh,” says Cassandra simply. A beat, and then - “Come with me.”

“Seeker -” Varric steps forward, but she raises a hand, still watching the pirate.

“Would you come with me?” she rephrases, and Isabela’s snappy reply dies on her tongue. She settle for a quick smile and a shrug, hauling herself from the chair to follow the woman out front.

Varric sighs heavily as he claims her seat. “Maker’s bloody _ass_ , Rivaini…”

Hawke reaches out to touch his hand. “I _am_ sorry, Varric. She just brought it out, and before I could stop her she was reading, and -”

“I know, I know.” He squeezes her hand briefly. “I should never have told her. I’m an idiot.”

“She shouldn’t have stolen it.”

“We both know she always would have.” He sighs. “In another story, she’d have made a damned good spy.”

“And Cass knows what she’s like. She’ll shout at her, probably, and then it’ll all be forgotten in time.”

He makes a noncommittal noise. “Hopefully. I’m going to pay for this, I can tell.”

“She’ll understand. She loves you, idiot.”

“Yeah.”

“Think we should intervene?”

“Probably, but I like my head attached to my body.” Still, he hauls himself from the chair, risking a look outside the window. “Who knows, maybe they’re…”

He drifts off. Hawke waits a moment before prompting him. “Maybe they’re… what? Making up over a pint? Dancing the Remigold?”

He peers out the window, before beckoning Hawke over. “Am I… seeing what I think I’m seeing?”

Hawke laughs, leaning heavily on his head. “If you think you’re seeing Isabela giving Cassandra constructive criticism, then yes. Oh, and she’s even taking notes! Adorable!”

“I’ve created a monster.”

“You’re a lucky bastard, Varric. I hope you know that.”

He grins. “Yeah, I know.” And then his face drops. “Oh, no.”

“Is Cass talking about you?”

“... yeah.”

“ _Nice._ ”

*

Varric closes the door behind them, watching for a moment as Cassandra tugs off her boots.

“I’m sorry,” he says finally.

She looks up at him with a soft smile. “You need not be. She told me what happened.”

“Still, I shouldn’t have told her about it.” He kicks off his own boots. “I was just… happy.”

“Truly?”

“Of course. You _wrote_ something, Seeker. For _me_.” A smile tugs at his lips. “It’s flattering.”

She laughs, hauling herself up to her feet. “Well, remind me to shower you with terrible prose more often, my love.”

He pulls her into a soft kiss, smiling as he pulls back to look up at her. “I love you.”

Her eyes widen, her own smile growing. “Varric…?”

“Yeah, yeah, alright. I love you, okay? Now let’s fuck.”

She laughs, pulling him into a tight hug. “I love you too,” she murmurs. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For saying it.” She pulls away, shrugging as she rubs her eyes. “You did not have to - I knew, and I would not have minded if you never said it, but -”

He reaches to cup her cheek. “Hey. It matters, so I said it.” He smiles slightly. “Only ever the truth, Seeker.”

“Only ever the truth,” she repeats, their promise to one another.

“Now, let's get on with putting my throbbing manmeat in your moist cinnibar cave -”

She groans, covering her face. “Do not say it _out loud!_ ”

“ _You_ wrote it, Seeker!”

“Yes, well. Writing is hardly my forte, as we are now _all_ well aware.”

He wraps an arm around her waist, grinning up at her as he pulls her in close. “For what it’s worth,” he points out, “I love that you wrote for me. And I thought it had potential, I really did.”

She smiles ruefully. “You _have_ to say that, you are my beloved.”

“Only ever the truth, remember?” He chuckles. “Course, if you want help with the revisions, I’m more than happy to help. Maybe I could run a few lines past you as I demonstrate the actions -”

She cuts him off, lips pressed against his as a soft whimper emanates from her throat, and he hoists her up in his arms, laughing as he carries her to their bedroom.


End file.
